The Outcast
by Lowell Boston
Summary: Before the maiden mission of the covert Rapid Response Unit, an assassin strikes one of its members. Assassin-Guardian Victor Drake and Colonel Cato Pompei join forces to catch a killer who may be one of their own crew.
1. Default Chapter

**The Outcast**

**Chapter 1**   
  
  


The small screen door slide open, and I said: "Forgive me, Sister, for I have sinned. It's...it's been several years since my last confession." 

"Go on, Ishtar is listening," came her voice from the other side of the netting. 

Outside the confessional abode, outside the church itself, I could hear the day winding to an end for the Archaen Astroid Mining Colony.   
Factory whistles signaled the end of the workday. The smell of incense filled the air, a covering odor against an industrial smog. Even more   
distant was the aroma of cooking shale'rooms for the End Day meal. I pursed my lips and took a breath. 

"I... I killed a woman in self defense," I said. 

"If you were protecting yourself, then there is no sin in that." 

"I know, its just that... she didn't have to die, and yet... perhaps it was best that she did." 

There was a long silence, only the sound of her breathing, the sound of my heart beating. Finally, she answered. 

"I'm listening," she said with a practiced voice. I took another breath. 

"It all began yesterday. I had just committed myself to a good cause, a secret one. One that that promised to make   
the stars a safer place. It was the beginning of a new life... one that would make a difference."   


______________________________________________________________________   
  
  


[**STARSHIP DESIGNATION--CLASSIFIED.**   
**100 MILES OFF THE ARCHAEN**   
**BORDER - SHOULDER OF THE EMPTY NESS**   
**ASTROID MINING REGION.]**   
  


"You input the final set of ciphers and... there you have it!" 

Julie Bruchard presses the 'Enter' button on the console and the monitor screen froze. A message window appeared.   


**[PROCESSING DATA]**   
****

Followed by another.   


** [...SYSTEM ON-LINE**]   


Only to be replaced by the previous. A cycle ensued, and the alternating messages repeated themselves. Lieutenant Marcus Octavius   
raised an eyebrow and turned to her. 

"Impressive. How'd you do it?" 

The Archaen stretched out both her arms, interlaced her fingers and cracked all her knuckles. 

"I inputed the mathematical equivalent of having peanutbutter stuck to the roof of your mouth," she said with mischievous pride. 

Marcus's brow creased. "I... don't follow?" 

"It's a program paradox. Once the computer has a hold of problem the solution eludes it setting up a viscous cycle. Sort of like   
spinning on your wheels." 

The Traqian shook his head repeatedly. "No, no I mean... what the hell is 'peanutbutter'?" 

Julie grinned, smiled, and laughed. It was a charming sound and Marcus raised his brow again. "You know, you're cute when you're confused,"   
she said patting his arm. 

"Who's confused?" 

"How's everything going?" The voice came from behind them. The two instantly rose, snapped to attention and faced the man who was the   
source of the question. "Sir!" they chipped in unison. 

Master Assassin-Guardian Victor Drake stood leaning in a casual pose against the doorway of the Tactical Room. His arms were folded across his   
muscular chest. He was tall, six foot four, with a prize fighter's build, military cut blonde hair, and ice blue eyes. His Warsaw was strapped across his back,   
Sabersaw to his side, and a Torpedo blaster holstered to his right thigh. He stood up straight and stepped forward two exact paces into the room. 

"At ease," he clipped. 

The two relaxed, legs shoulder length apart, arms casually held behind their backs. A pregnant pause followed, growing, until Julie realized he was   
waiting for either of them to speak. 

"Um, sir... Marcus and I were just exchanging hacker techniques, sir." 

Victor nodded. "Sounds interesting. Carry on." He began to turn until Marcus spoke up. "Sir, um... how..how long were you standing there?" 

Victor turned back, with a slight grin playing across his face. That was the question he wanted to hear. "Long enough," he answered. The   
Traqian nodded, and a faint hue flushed his cheeks, Julie's as well. They had been caught flat footed and Marcus mentally kicked himself. He   
had been checking the reflection in the monitor from time to time, but the Archaen 'Sin-Guardian had appeared like a ghost. 

"In the future I suggest you two _not_become so deeply focused on what you're doing. If I'd been an enemy, you'd both be   
grinning at daises by now," Their Joint-Commander's retorted was ice cold and serious. 

"Sir, yes sir!" they issued as one. 

"As you were then." Victor turned for the door. 

"Sir!" Julie called out. "Sir, I was wondering I if I might have a word with you?" 

The 'Sin-Guardian called over his shoulder as he walked out. "I'm on my way to the Alpha Deck, Commander, walk with me." Julie turned to Marcus. 

"Talk some more over dinner?" 

"You're on," he said. 

She nodded with a warm smile, and raced out the door. She passed a trio of Istata Sisters carrying medical supplies down the long corridor before   
meeting up with her CO and falling into step. 

"Sir, I was wondering if I could discuss my roommate arrangement?" Without breaking stide Victor's eyes cut towards her. "Problem?" he asked. 

"Sir, you could say. The rest of us are all paired off with a Traqian roommate. Everyone, that is, except me." 

"You're with Caressa Wolfe," answered the 'Sin-Guardian. 

"Yes sir, and... well, I'll just come out and say it. She's a Outcast, sir. I've heard it from several reliable sources that   
years ago she... she tried to assassinate a member of the Royal Family." 

Victor stopped, crossed his arms and grinned sarcastically. "Really?! you don't say." The young officer pursed her lips. 

"All right, maybe it's all hearsay, sir, but... she has been in exile from the Empire for years, that much is true." 

"And you feel uncomfortable with that?" asked her commander. Julie simply lowered her eyes and nodded. 

"Sir, I... I just think she'd be better off with a Traqian." 

"A Traqian, huh. You know I don't I could think of a better way to still make her feel like an Outcast. Do you?" Victor waited for   
an answer. There was none. "No? The it's time we welcomed her back into the fold, Julie, and you're just the person to do it." 

"But... why me, sir?" 

"Because you're a woman." 

The Archaen was shocked. "But that's...that's sexist, sir!" 

"So what?" The assassin shrugged. "Fact is, Caressa needs a friend, and you're it." 

"Sir, this isn't fair," protested the Tactical Officer. 

"Tough! If you don't like the way I run things around here, you know where the airlock is." 

The 'Sin-Guardian began to walk away. Julie only need a few moments to think it over. She was a member of the elite 'Unit" now, and   
no challenge was too great, or small. She snapped to attention and called, 

"Sir, I won't not disappoint you!" 

The 'Sin-Guardian stopped, and glanced over his shoulder meeting the young officer's eyes. "Good, that's what I wanted to hear. Try not to   
stay up too late, Commander. The Colonel's training session starts early tomorrow." 

"Aye that, sir." 

Crossing her palms to her chest she courtly bowed before about facing in a military manner. Victor watched her head off in the direction   
of her quarters before he turned and continued on towards the Alpha Deck. His thoughts, were heavy and concern.   
  


______________________________________________________________________   
  
  


A knock came to the door. 

"It's open, Victor," said the voice on the other side. 

The panel slide open and Victor Drake stood in the doorway. He looked in, impressed by what he saw. Colonel Cato Pompei   
of the Commonwealth of Independent Interstellar States laid with his feet perched on the end of his bed. One arm was outstretched   
before him, the other was carefully held behind his back. He was doing one handed push ups. 

"482, 483, 484 ...what's up, Victor?" 

The 'Sin-Guardian walked in. "How'd you know it was me?". The Colonel looked up in mid-push, stopped and grinned. 

"You're the only one I know who could approach my door without making a sound." 

Victor inclined his head with approval. Inwardly he was more impressed. It was the first time he could remember anyone ever using his   
own skills against him. The Colonel continued his push-ups. 

"If you got a minute Colonel, I was considering re-fitting the layout of some of the operation rooms. The consoles and chairs are   
faced away from the doors..." 

"...So the operator backs are to them if someone walks in." finished the Colonel. 

"Exactly." 

"Yeah, I thought about that myself. Sounds like a good idea, let's do it... 497, 498, 499...500." 

Finished, the Traqian stood up, picked up a towel off his bed, and dabbed the back of his neck. He had hardly broken a sweat. He was a tall man,   
two inches shorter than Victor, with a similar build, thick, black hair cut just above his ears, and hard blue eyes. 

"I also have the memory chips for tomorrow's training session. Thought you'd might want to go over it," continued the Archaen The Colonel began   
putting on his uniform jacket. 

"I would. Tell you what, have you eaten yet?" 

"Not lately" 

"Good. Let's head for the messhall and go over the program." 

The Traqian put on his weapons belt, grabbed his uniform cap, and together with his Joint-Commander headed for the door.   
  


______________________________________________________________________   
  
  


"Is anyone sitting here?" 

The troops at the mess table paused in their conversation. Some of the Traqian men did double takes. The woman standing before them   
with a food tray in her hand was quite attractive. Suddenly, their Archaen counter-parts drew quiet. A tight tension cut the air. Some of the   
Traqians looked around, mildly confused, wondering what was the matter. 

Drake surveyed the scene from across the aisle where he sat with Colonel Pompei. Also with them were their two First Officers, Lieutenant   
Julius Grasius of the CIIS, and Commander Remmer Jordan of the Archaen fleet. Cato looked up, tracking Victor's gaze. 

"Problem?" he asked. 

"Let's hope not," replied the 'Sin-Guardian. Lt. Comm. Peter Rhodes, the Archaen Dream-medic, stood up from the other table. 

"You may have my seat, miss. I've suddenly lost my appetite." 

Pushing his tray aside, he walked out of the room. 

"Aye that, me as well." That from Zach Miller, the Archaen demolition's expert. One by one the Archaen troops rose and filed out, their evening   
meals undone, turkish coffee mugs still steaming. Only Lt. Comm. Juliet Bruchard remain among the Archaens. She was sitting next to Marcus Octavius   
struggling with her thoughts. 

"Caressa... you... you can sit with me," she said. 

The standing woman's face was tranquil and calm. Only a slight flaring was visible around her nostrils, but to an Archaen Dreamer, such emotional   
display was the equivalent of a scream. Caressa took a deep breath and the quivering suddenly stopped. 

"Thank you, Julie," she said and took her seat. The tension held as the Traqians and the two Archaens continued to eat in and uneasy silence. Finally, 

"Ishtar! Where are my manners?!" 

Julie slapped her face in mocked surprised befroe introducing Caressa to the rest of the crew. Her part was a bit overacted, thought Victor,   
but it had the desired effect. Lively conversation broke out and the normal sounds of eating returned to the hall. The dinner meal carried on.   
  


______________________________________________________________________   
  
  


"And that was how Caressa Wolfe was introduced to the troops of the Unit." I adjusted my form on the cushion of the   
Confessional Abode. 

"The next day I had to read Lt. Comm. Bruchard's report on how she died." 

The Sister spoke from the other side of the screen. "But... I thought you said _you_killed her?" 

"What?... Oh... oh no, not her. No, Caressa was a victim in all this. Sorry, I guess I should explain. This is what happened."   
  


______________________________________________________________________   
  
  


"...New Asgard! You're kidding? All this time you've been studying magic on New Asgard?" 

Julie and Caressa walked down the corridor together. Caressa simply nodded her reply. Her features, an emotionless contrast,   
to her roommates. 

"Carrie, I've never heard of any Dreamer studying magic before. This is unprecedented!" 

"As far as I know, I'm the first" Her brows arched in a Dreamer's smile. They stopped before their cabin door. A wicked smile grew on Julie's face   
as she searched for her key-card. 

"Oh, I'd give anything to have shore leave there. When I was a teenager I had the biggest crush on this Asgardian elf..." 

She found the key and ran it across the locking panel on the doorjamb; the door slide open. Julie walked in, raised her arms above her   
head and stretched. 

"Anyway... uh, that's the spot!... his name was Gynt,...or Mynt? or something like that. He was sixty four   
with the body of nineteen..." 

Julie stopped. She turned around and saw Caressa wasn't behind her. The Dream-Mystic was still standing in the threshold of the doorway,   
eyes casting about the room in a suspicions way. 

"Carrie... something wrong?" asked Julie. 

Their eyes met and the Dreamer nodded. "Someone's been in our room." 

A chill ran down the Tactical Officer's spine. Slowly she turned around and surveyed their quarters. Her side of the room was slightly   
disheveled but only because she hadn't stowed away her stuff yet. Caressa's side was as neat as a pin. Suddenly, Julie spotted something,   
on the farthest wall opposite the door. In the center was a large, round xallocite porthole through which she could see the distant stars.   
As a joke she had hung a wooden picture frame around it, but now, attached to the center of the glass was something new. A round metal   
disk about as wide as her palm. Below it was a note. Julie stepped closer. Words were written in large Archaic script.   
  


**[IF YOU CAN READ THIS, YOU'RE DEAD!]**   
  


"RUN!" Julie charged for the door. An audible click went off behind her. Her feet left the ground and she slammed into Caressa as   
the room bleached pure white behind them, exploding with an earsplitting sound. The concussion wave threw the women across the corridor   
and crushed them into the retaining bulkhead. Caressa's ribs cracked with a loud, sickening sound as Julie's body rammed into hers.   
The two fell to the floor. Julie was semi-conscious, having her collision with the bulkhead cushioned by Caressa's body helped. Her instincts   
kicked in, jolting her to full consciousness by pure adrenaline alone. There was a painful tugging on her hair, and an ice cold temperature   
on her skin. The sound of air rushing past her ears grew stronger - strong enough to draw her body back towards the portal of her doorway.   
The explosion had shattered the outter bulkhead of her cabin wall. She was now being sucked into the vacuum of space. 

She fought against the pressure current and glanced back over her shoulder. Her thoughts were nearly scattered with panic, but she   
knew something was wrong. The door to her cabin should have been closed. In the event of a breech all portals were automatically sealed,   
but her's wasn't. Instantly, she saw the reason why. A stool had wedged itself between the doorjamb and the sliding door. The opening wasn't   
much, but enough to allow the great void of space to continue sucking air through the gaping maw that used to be her outer cabin wall, and   
he outer corridor as well. 

She slide back several feet then stopped. The floor, devoid of any handholds, was smooth steel, but the grips of her boots had dug in,   
halting her. She began to crawl sideways against the suction current, desperately looking for a place to anchor herself. The air grated   
into her like icy shrapnel. The floor was like frozen to the touch, and her hands and arms were quickly growing numb and swollen.   
Capillaries froze on her nose and ears. She was growing tired, yet somehow she began to move. 

Suddenly, she caught movement in the peripheral of her vision and turned. Caressa's body rolled onto her side and began to slide towards   
the door, lifting and raising like some great majestic aircraft. Julie turned her body, braced her legs with all her remaining strength and lunged.   
The two women crashed in mid-air and rolled to a jolting, painful halt against the steel wall to the left of their cabin door. Julie's remaining air   
was knocked out of her lungs. Caressa was limp and heavy in her arms. She fought with her waning strength to hold her, thinking that perhaps   
her added weight would be enough to anchor them down. It wasn't. Quickly the Tactical Officer's strength began to turn sluggish, and her body   
moved as if pulled by a thousand puppet strings, haltingly, towards the door's ravenous hole. Her vision tunneled, went black, re-focussed.   
She knew then that she was going to ... 

...A light hit her face - nearly blinding, then turned, and the helmet it belonged to regarded the door. Thick, insulated boots detached their   
magnetic clamps to the steel floor and kicked the wedged stool through the doorway. The cabin door slammed shut and Julie's ears popped   
with the sudden change in air pressure. She collapsed to the ground. The figure in the spacesuit knelt to her side and dimmed its helmet light.   
It was Marcus. Julie tried to speak, but her lips were dry and cracked. 

"Don't talk, just breath," said his voice filtered through the helmet's external speakers. He produced a small air canister and breathing mask   
from a storage pocket on his right thigh, placed it on Julie's face and depressed the pressure button. The Archaen began to inhale thick lungfuls   
of air. 

"Steady, not so fast, Julie!" 

The Lieutenant nodded, and took long, controlled breaths. Marcus moved over to look at Caressa. Her left arm was bent at an uncomfortable   
angle. Her nose was profusely bleeding. 

"bah-o-mmm...," said a horse voice behind him. Marcus turned. Julie was trying to speak. Her teeth were chattering in the cold, and long trails   
of frosty mist trailed from her mouth. 

"S-s-s-...some....w-w-wwwooooooon.. t-t-t-tried ta k-k-killl...." Marcus nodded. There was no need to finish, he got the message. 

"Looks like they were partially successful," he answered. He looked back at Caressa. 

"I think she's dead."   


______________________________________________________________________   
  
  
  
  



	2. The Outcast Chapter 2

The Outcast. 

**Chapter 2**   
  


The Archaen flag was lowered over the coffin as the empire's sovereign anthem was played. Archaen and Traqian troops stood at rigid attention   
on either side of the cherrywood casket. Archaen First Officer Rembrant 'Remmer, Jordan concluded the songs final notes on his Cirrillian Warhorn   
before lower his instrument. 

"AT EASE!" barked Lieutenant Julius Grasius, his Traqian Counter part. The troops fell into that casual pose. Victor Drake walked up to the podium   
and placed his nano-pixel log-pad on the reading structure. He surveyed the troops and found it difficult to read the look of his own soldiers faces. There   
was neither sorrow, or indifference, only cold disciplined expressions, all save Julie's. Her bandages did little to hide her feelings. In time, he supposed would   
know how they all truly felt. Victor glanced down at his notes, and cleared his throat. 

"I'll keep this short, but meaningful," he said. 

He looked back to the troops. 

"A great man once said...'The moral arc of the universe is long, but it curves towards justice'.   
Yesterday, Acting-Ensign Caressa Madelynn Wolfe was...MURDERED!" 

His voice boomed long and hard through out the chamber. 

"...and despite what many of you may have thought about her, or your reservations on her past,   
she was still one of us, an elite member of the Unit. If that means anything to you, then you   
know that a blow against the Unit is a blow against us all, never forget that!..." 

His hard eyes took in every face. 

"This is not the time to talk about investigations, or a list of suspects, but understand this ...I will   
not rest until I have her murderer in my sights! I hope you all will join me in that cause. Justice   
be served!" 

"JUSTICE BE SERVED!" repeated the troops as one. 

Victor turned and nodded to his first officer. Remmer activated the dockingbay doors and gravity runway. The Archaen Funeral March began, played   
by a trio of Istata Sisters. Caressa's casket was lifted off the deck and made its way towards the open docking portal, sealed with a transparent, porous   
mag-shield. It passed between the troops, The Commanding Officers, and the Istata Sisterhood's medical and engineering staff, passing through silent thoughts   
and prayers. The coffin soundlessly floated through the magnetic veil of the shield and was cast a drift into the endless regions of space. The Troops snapped   
to attention as the final notes of the march was played. 

Victor stepped back from the podium,and stood shoulder to shoulder with Cato. He lowered his head out of respect along with the rest of the troops until   
the March ended and silence filled the room. 

"Dismissed!" order Colonel Pompei. 

The troops, as if broken from a trance, filed out in silence. The funeral was over.   
  


______________________________________________________________________   
  
  


Drake entered his personal cabin, waited for the door to close behind him before removing his ceremonial cape and tossing it on his bed. 

"Shouldn't you be resting?" he asked the woman standing by the porthole window. Caressa Wolfe turned to him and raised a brow in a   
Dreamer's frown. 

Her upper body and ribs were tightly wrapped in medical bandages. Her left arm was supported by an orthopedic sling, while her head was studded   
with several nano-compresses and dermal regenerators. Despite the array of medical accouterments, she still maintain an aura of regal beauty. She was   
young, about twenty six in age with chestnut colored hair, spiky black eyebrows, and light blue eyes. A single dimple marked the light skin of her left cheek   
giving her a pixish appearance. She turned back to the window. Her reflection was like a ghost on glass. 

"It's not everyday you get to see your own coffin cast into space. I wanted to MINDRACE the event," she said. 

"It was a lovely funeral, everyone cried," said the 'Sin-Guardian. 

Whether the Dreamer believed his joke or not he couldn't tell. Her face showed nothing. She faced him again. 

"What, may I ask, was in the coffin?" 

"Your Funeral Mask, and a full body cast filled with Kissaki flowers." 

Caressa raised her eyebrows and nodded her head in approval. 

"My favorite. Very thoughtful." 

Drake crossed his arms and shrugged. "It was in your will, just not in that exact arrangement" 

"Still, it's a nice touch. Any chance I can get my Funeral Mask back? I have a feeling I'll be   
needing it again at least once more in my life time." 

The 'Sin-Guardian cut a sly grin. It seems the Dreamer had a sense of humor after all. 

"Take a seat, Caressa, it's time we talked." 

The Acting-ensign nodded slowly and made her way back over to his bed. Though her face would not show it, he could tell she was in pain.   
With six broken ribs, a broken arm, a fractured skull and a major concussion it was hard not to. She sat near the head of the bed and leaned on   
what the Fleet jokingly called a pillow against the head board. Victor grabbed a chair, turned it backwards and straddled it. 

"As I'm sure you've guessed there's a very good reason why your death was faked after the explosion," he began. 

She nodded. "To make the assassin..." 

"...Or assassin's." he added. 

"No, sir, only one...and it was to make 'her' think she succeeded." 

"One?...She? It seems you know a lot about this. Let's hear more." 

Caressa gathered her thoughts. 

"Before we start sir, may I ask how many people know I'm alive?" 

"Just two others. Dr. Rhodes who treated your injuries, and Colonel Pompei." 

"And you trust them, sir?" asked the Dreamer 

"Any reason why I shouldn't?" 

The Dreamer looked away and her eyes were lost again in inner thoughts. 

"I...I don't know." For an instant the 'Sin-Guardian could swear she shivered. A near impossibility for an emotionally inhibited Dreamer. 

"Caressa, I think you better start from the beginning," he asked. 

She blinked and her thoughts returned to the here and now. 

"Yes sir, but what I'm about to say may sound...complicated." 

"So try me." 

She nodded. "Are you aware of the circumstances that lead to my expulsion from the Empire?" 

Victor smiled. 

"There aren't many people in the empire who are, but I happen to be one of them." 

The 'Sin-Guardian closed his eyes and recited from memory. 

"Several years ago the Empress's older sister, Marka Juray was fatally wounded in an assassination   
attempt by Red Klan members. She was dying. Somehow you managed to sneak into her hospital   
room through tight security and administer a drug into her system, throwing her into a deep coma.   
You then used your Dreamer abilities to nest her 'mind' into yours. You were found passed out on   
the floor. Eventually you were brought before the Empress herself, and when questioned about you   
actions you simply stated that you were acting for the good of the Empire. You also threatened to kill   
yourself with a self induced stroke if any attempt was made to probe your mind. As punishment, the   
Empress exiled you from the Empire until you were willing to come back, explain your actions and   
have Marka's mind removed from yours." 

The 'Sin-Guardian paused for dramatic effect and opened his eyes. 

"Did I leave anything out?" he added. 

Caressa shook her head. "Only my side of the story." Despite the fact that they were alone, the Dreamer shifted closer to the 'Sin-Guardian   
and lowered her voice.   
  
"What I'm about to say you must never divulge to the Empress, the Emperor ...anyone." 

Victor sat up straight. "Caressa, I don't think I can make that kind of promise" 

"You will, once you hear the truth." 

The 'Sin-Guardian took a deep breath and refolded his arms across the back of the chair. 

"All right, let's hear it." 

"The assassination attempt, Marka's injuries, they were all an elaborate set up." 

Victor's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" Caressa continued. 

"Marka's 'Sin-Guardian, Haegan, set the who thing up, and made it look like a Red Klan hit.   
Her own injuries were surgically created ..created specifically as a ruse." 

"Why?" said Victor. 

"To trap the Empress. Since supposedly Marka was dying she had requested that her mind   
be nested in that of her sisters, the Empress. In reality, she was going try and subjugate the   
Empress's own conscious with her own. To mentally assassinate her, if you will." 

Victor shook his head. 

"What you're saying is Impossible. Empress Cavery is too strong. She's the Supreme True   
Dreamer of the Empire for Goddess sake." 

"Not impossible, and very likely," countered Caressa. She explained. 

"Originally, Lady Marka was arranged as a match for the Emperor. At that time she had   
just recently gone through Pyoor'ga'shun, the Rite of Pure Thought and became a True   
Dreamer, a very powerful one indeed. But the match was not good and the Emperor did   
not select her." 

"He selected her younger sister instead," added Drake. 

"Yes, Lady Cavery, a powerful Dreamer herself. The two met quite by accident. At that time   
she was only a Dreamer, and a year below the age of courtship. Nonetheless, the Emperor   
broke with tradition and began to see her. Within a year the two were betrothed." 

"Well know history, but that doesn't explain why Lady Marka would want to mindkill her   
own sister," said Victor. 

"Lady Marka is a ruined Dreamer, sir. Ruined from the moment of the Emperor's rejection.   
Ruined more by the Emperor's interest in her own sister." 

"Impossible! Marka's a True Dreamer. All emotion bearing chemicals have been purged from her mind." 

Caressa shook her head.   
  
"Nevertheless, the ember of jealously was planted in her. An ember that grew over the years, driving   
her insane, driving her to obtain the one thing she wanted all her life. To be the wife of the Emperor,   
to be the Supreme True Dreamer of the Archaen Empire." 

Victor was silent for a long moment. The hum of the ship could be heard in the background. 

"Okay, if all this is true, how did you know? How did you find out about Marka's true intent." 

Caressa stood up, perhaps too quickly. Her eyes twitched with pain. She walked back over to the porthole and looked out for several long   
moments. Finally she turned and spoke. 

"I... had a dream, sir. A vision..." 

"Come again?" 

"I saw it all as a vision. Her plot, her deception. I had to act based on that." 

"You stole the mind of the Empress's sister all because you had a Vision!" 

There eyes met for several hard seconds. Caressa's were steadfast and tranquil. 

"Yes sir," she said. 

"Ishtar, kid, that's thin," said Victor 

"I know, sir, but the vision wasn't mine; it was sent." 

"By who?" 

"I was exiled rather quickly once the deed was done. I never found out," she replied. 

"And this is why you never revealed your reasons to the Empress? All because of some   
vision you acted on?" 

"You said it your self, sir, it's thin. Who would believe me? But it is true. Marka Juray exist   
within me..." And she touched her forehead. "I know her thoughts as much as I know my own.   
She's ...insane." 

The 'Sin-Guardian rested his chin on his fist and thought long and hard, all the while never taking his eyes off of Caressa. 

"All right, Caressa, I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, and take everything you've   
said at face value, for now," he said 

"Because of the assassin." she added. 

"Exactly. How does...'she' play into all of this?" 

Caressa looked back out the window and spoke. 

"For the past few years I've been studying magic on New Asgard, specifically, to find a way to 'free' Marks's   
essence from my mind, and to take her back to the Empire for her crimes. I was actually quite close to succeeding,   
sir, when Commander Jordan approached me about joining the Unit. At first I had no interest in the proposal, but..." 

Victor smiled. "Jordan can be very ...persuasive," he said. Her brows raises in a Dreamer's smile. 

"Yes sir. He has a way of putting things. He informed me that I would have to get into shape,   
that training would be quite grueling. So, I decided to start training. One night I pushed myself   
too hard by running fifteen miles. I had collapsed from exhaustion when I got home to my   
bedchambers. That's when Marka took over." 

"What do you mean by 'took over'?" asked the 'Sin-Guardian. 

"In times of severe stress, or fatigue, Marka has been able to take control of my consciousness ...and my body." 

"Ishtar! You never mentioned this before!" 

"It doesn't happen very often, sir, or for long. When it does, Marka will do anything to try and return home   
to Archada. She has control of me until she herself falls asleep. I have no memory of what she does when she's   
...me. Having no recollection for a Dreamer is very...unsettling. Many's the time I've awakened aboard a merchant   
ship heading back to the Empire, or in the bed of a ship captain ...or other men. Sometimes I think she simply   
does that to humiliate me." 

Her voice was far away. She turned and faced the 'Sin-Guardian. 

"This time though she didn't go far. I awoke in my bedchambers, but I knew I had gone out. My shoes where   
muddy and sticky, and my clothes smelled of tobacco. There was something in my hand." 

She reached into the pocket of her robe and produces a ring. Victor stood up and walked closer to examine it. He didn't touch it, he simply looked at it. 

"A 'Sin-Guardian signet ring," he said. He had one of his own, only long ago had given it to his wife to keep. Caressa nodded. 

"It's Haegan's, Marka's 'Sin-Guardian. He had followed me to New Asgard, his way to keep an eye on me, or Marka, I suppose.   
The Asgardian authorities knew about him, but could never catch him. He was like a distant shadow. When I found his ring it was   
caked in blood..his blood." 

"I'm not sure I follow." Victor crosses his arms about his chest. 

"Haegan's dead, sir. Killed by the assassin. The signet ring was to symbolize that. There was also a message written in my hand.   
It said ...'You're Next!'... " 

A cold shiver went through Victor. Archaen 'Sin-Guardian's were a hard lot to kill, hard by a long shot. 

"Are you saying Marka did something to make her a target of assassination?" he asked 

"No, sir. Marka hired the assassin herself," she answered 

"What?!" 

Her lips pursed tightly. 

"I'm..I'm feeling a bit dizzy," she said 

"Here." The 'Sin-Guardian gently hooked an arm around her and helped her back to the bed. 

"Thank you," she said as she sat back against the pillows.   
  
"Drink?" Caressa inclined her head twice. Victor stepped to the foot of the bed where a small table was set up with a pitcher of water and   
two glasses. He poured one and handed it to the Dreamer. She finished half and handed it back. 

"You should rest now, we'll talk later." 

The tired look on her face was her answer. She began to lay down. 

"Caressa, one more thing?" 

"Sir?" 

"Who is the assassin?" 

"A Dakka, sir."   
  
"Damn." Drakes face harden in serious thought. 

He headed for the door and turned off the lights. The door slide open, he went through and was gone.   


______________________________________________________________________   
  


I adjusted my form on the cushion again. The Sister was silent on the other side of the screen. I asked a question. 

"Do you know what a Dakka is, Sister?" 

I waited for her answer, but for half a moment I thought she was gone. 

"They're ...they're magical being, aren't they?" 

"Magical assassins. They have the ability to cloud peoples minds. In some cultures they're called demons or devils." 

"I...I see," she answered. 

"I'm not sure you do. A Dakka can make you forget things, short term memory loss, or cast your thoughts with illusions.   
You could be talking to a Dakka, and think it's your best friend. Then you get a shive between your ribs, ...or worse.   
That's probable what happen to Haegan." 

A long moment before she said: "And ...this is who was killed", she asked. 

"So I thought," I answered.   
  


______________________________________________________________________   



	3. The Outcast Chapter 3

The Outcast 

Chapter 3   
  


The knock came to the door. Victor called out, 

"Come in Colonel." 

The portal slide open, and Cato Pompei stepped in. 

"Your call said it was urgent Vic, so...." 

The Colonel froze. Victor Drake sat at the far end of the officers conference table. His left hand was held up, fitted with his Sensor Glove, palms out,   
and facing the Colonel. Laying on the table in front of him was his Torpedo Blaster. To his side was Dr. Rhodes, the Archaen's Dream-Medic. His field kit   
was strapped across his chest. The Traqian's eyes narrowed. 

"What's this all about, Victor?" he said calmly. His right arm hung casually by his holster. 

"Colonel. I'm afraid I need you to step closer into the room," answered the 'Sin-Guardian in a serious tone. He pushed his glove slightly forward. 

"And if I refuse?" Their eyes met. The Traqian's arm moved a millimeter closer to his weapon. 

"Then I'll have to shoot you, Colonel," said Victor flatly. Their eyes remained locked for several moments. The Joint-Commanders studied each other. 

"I trust there's a good explanation for this?" said the Colonel. 

"A good one," answered Victor. 

Cato nodded, and slowly walked in five steps closer. The 'Sin-Guardian extended his Sensor Glove to full arms length and scanned the Colonel from   
head to toe. He glanced towards the doctor. 

"Normal" 

The True-Dreamer nodded. "I'm convinced it's him, sir," said the Dream-Medic. 

"I'd still like a second opinion." said Victor, his eyes never leaving Cato. 

The doctor understood. Taking a device out of his kit, he walked over to the Traqian officer, and stopped well out of arms reach. The Colonel   
recognized the device as a Synaptic Spectrometer. It was used to measure the electro-chemical discharges between nerve cells in the brain and   
nervous system. In essence, the energy field unique to him. 

"Please close your eyes sir." 

Pompei did so, and was met with an intense white light perceived even through his closed lids. 

"You may open them." 

The world was full of floating blue spots. The doctor examined the data. Like all True-Dreamers, his expression was unreadable. He looked back to Victor. 

"It's him, sir. He's Human." 

"Damn right I am. Now what the hell is this all about, Drake?" said Cato, his fist on his hips, and the first real expression of anger on his face. 

Victor stood up, placed his blaster back in his holster and came to the doctor's side. Together both men crossed their arms in front of their chest,   
like a fisted 'X' and deeply bowed. 

"We seek your pardon, Honor-Traqian," they said in unison. 

The Colonel held his thoughts. He realized that the Archaens had a strict set of protocols and social forms of behavior they all lived by. He crossed   
his arms in a similar fashion, and bowed as well. 

"All is forgiven, Honor-Archaens." 

The Colonel stood up. "But bloody hell to the social graces, I'd feel better if someone told me what's going on!" 

"We had to make sure it was you, sir," said the doctor. 

"Any reason why I shouldn't be?" 

Victor nodded twice. "The assassin on board ...she's a Dakka." 

The Colonel's expression wasn't pleasant. Victor gestured towards the table. 

"Have a seat, I'll bring you up to speed."   
  


_____________________________________________________________________   
  
  


Fifteen minutes later. 

"It's madness ...pure madness!" 

Cato pushed aside his steaming mug of Tur'kesh coffee. 

"This woman hired an assassin to kill herself?" 

"To kill Caressa, Colonel" said Drake. 

The Traqian shrugged. "Same difference." 

"Not to a Dreamer," said the Doctor. He explained. 

"Marka's consciousness is nested in Caressa's mind. From her point of view she's trapped ...disembodied, a prisoner   
if you will. Caressa said she was close to finding a spell to remove Marka from her consciousness. From what she's   
told us about her, Marka doesn't like to lose. She'd rather die than be returned to the Empire in some immaterial state.   
It would be...humiliating." 

"The clincher is the deathblow would be delivered to Caressa. She'd see it coming, and know it was from Marka.   
In essence, its a duel between split personalities." said Victor. 

It sounded odd to the Colonel, but it made sense. He tighten his jaw in light of the new situation. 

"You realize what a security risk this poses? It could blow our operation sky high," said the Traqian. 

"That remains to be seen, Cato. We have to find the Dakka." said Victor. 

The Colonel nodded and took another sip from his coffee. He was deep in thought. 

"Sir, you said that you had finished questioning about half the troops?" asked the doctor. 

"That's right ...oh, I see what you mean." 

A slight tremor went through the Colonel as he wondered if he had looked right into the face of the Dakka and thought it was one of his own men. 

"We should started again, this time using the Syn-spect," said Dr. Rhodes. 

The Colonel thought about it good and long, then abruptly shook his head. 

"No." 

"Colonel?" said Victor. 

"No, that'd be playing right into the Dakka's hand. She lives by deceit and deception and is probable counting on   
us following some line of detective investigation." 

"You've got something else in mind? asked Victor. Cato inclined his head. 

"We need to narrow our field of suspects; find a quicker way to locate, fix and capture her." The Colonel stroked his chin and said his thoughts out loud. 

"Doctor, you believe Dreamers are impervious to the Dakka's powers, and that's probably how Marka was able to   
find her in the first place on New Asgard, she could see her true form, or why Caressa wasn't directly assaulted." 

The doctor nodded. Cato looked to Victor. 

"They also have unusually high body temperatures, that's why you scanned me with your Sensor Glove". The 'Sin-Guardian grinned and nodded as well. 

"An infra-red scan of the ship could do the trick," said the Dream-Medic. The Colonel agreed. 

"I'd like you to do that, doctor," said Cato. 

"Aye sir, but I'd assume the Dakka would be aware of such a measure and has done something to   
compensate. Drugs, a coolant suit, or hiding near a high heat source like the engine room, or   
power-plant." 

"Let's count on it then. Nevertheless, scan for anything unusual. If nothing shows up, then begin the   
Syn-spec test on the troops. Do Lieutenant Grasius and Commander Jordan first. If they're normal,   
appraise them of the situation and have Julius accompany you on the rest of the exams. Jordan will   
guard Caressa's chamber." 

"Aye, sir," said the doctor. The Colonel faced his Joint-Commander. "Victor, this is where we come in." 

The 'Sin-Guardian smiled to himself. He liked the Colonel's methods. 

"I'm listening." 

"We're going to take a more round about lead. What can you tell me about the device used in the explosion?" 

"Julie's report described it as looking similar to one of our Archaen puck charges. Round, and as about as wide   
as your hand," said Victor. 

"Similar, but she couldn't confirm it." 

"I'm afraid she didn't get a good look." 

Cato understood. "What are the chances of the assassin bringing it on board then?" he asked. The 'Sin-Guardian shook his head. 

"Pretty slim. One of the first things I did was to set up our internal sensors to scan for elements found in most   
chemical and energy base weapons. If she brought it aboard, it was dissembled, or she stole it from our armory.   
It's what I'd do if I were her." 

"Sounds like you're putting yourself inside her head, Vic. I like that, keep thinking that way. All right, let's start   
with the armory and see where that leads us." 

The three men rose from their feet. The Colonel pulled his blaster from his holster and checked his charge. It was full. He placed it back. 

"Doctor, I think it goes without saying that under no circumstances are you to reveal the reason for your scans to the   
troops, or the fact that Caressa is still alive." 

"Understood sir, but they will suspect something." 

"Let them for now." The Colonel faced his fellow officers. 

"Gentlemen, we have an assassin to catch, let's get to it."   
  


______________________________________________________________________   
  
  


The two men rode in silence in the lift down to the Beta Deck. 

"You're pretty quite Vic, something on your mind?" 

"Just thinking..." He turned to the Colonel. 

"Let's say you're the Dakka. You believe you've successfully assassinated your target.   
You're on board a starship filled with highly trained Special Operatives. What's the next   
thing you'd do?" 

"Get the hell off!" exclaimed the Colonel. The 'Sin-Guardian inclined his head twice. 

"Exactly. So, how would you go about doing that?" 

The Colonel thought for a moment, then looked back to his Joint-Commander. 

"Wait for the ship to dock." 

"No telling when that could happen. Could be a long wait." 

Pompei agreed. "All right, Then I'd create a diversion to mask my escape." 

Victor smiled. "And it's been pretty quite around here. All our troops are confined to their quarters.   
Our sensor logs are on full alert. If a door so much as opens without our approval, we'd jump on it." 

Cato rubbed his chin. 

"Damn, I see what you mean. You think she's waiting for something? Some moment to make her move?" 

Victor nodded. "I feel like there's a time bomb's counting down, but I don't knowing 'where' it is." 

The lift stopped and the door opened. Both men pulled their guns and checked their side flanks. 

"All clear here," said the Colonel. 

"Likewise," followed Victor. 

The 'Sin-Guardian went first; left arm extended, Sensor Glove palm out, Torpedo Blaster held ready in the other. Pompei followed, protecting   
their blind flank. The two continued down the dark steel corridor in this fashion for twenty meters, then stopped in front of a large double door   
with a temporary placard on it. It read:   


**[ARMORY]**   
  


Victor activated the entry panel. A screen went from black to a series of encoded ciphers. He read the readout and cursed in surprise. 

"What is it?" called the Colonel over his shoulder. 

"According to the entry log, the last person to enter the Armory was ...you." 

"What?!..." the Colonel nearly dropped his guard. Backing up in a defensive stance he glanced up at the readout. The last access code   
was indeed his. 

"Any memory of coming to the Armory lately?" asked the 'Sin-Guardian. The Colonel's voice was distant. 

"No...none at all. I'm sure of it." 

Victor's face tightened. "I'm sorry, Cato, she must have gotten to you. The Pressure sensor logs say two people entered the Armory.   
One weighing two hundred and ten..." 

"...My weight." 

"...and the other ...three hundred and ninety." 

"Son of a ...she's big!" 

"There was no weight change in the room after they left, meaning nothing was taken," said Victor. 

"Or...she could have replaced things with an item of equal weight. Part of that three hundred pounds   
could have been something she was carrying," said the Colonel. 

His eyes scanned the hallway for the slightest of movements. The Archaen agreed. He enter his own access code and depressed the 'OPEN' stud, 

"Let's find out then." 

The steel door soundlessly slid apart. The two men turned to enter, took a step in, then abruptly stopped. There was no confusion as to who should   
go first, each man was simply frozen by their instincts. 

"You feel it too?" said the Colonel 

"Yeah, something's wrong here ....something really wrong." 

The two backed out, and the door closed. The Colonel turned to his Joint-Commander and voiced the new thought entering his head. 

"Julie's report said that the explosive charge 'clicked' before going off. If I remember correctly,   
Archaen puck charges don't make any sound before activation. Your people use motion sensors   
or time detonators." 

"That's true. But if the bomb's not ours, then why'd she come to the Armory?" 

The Colonel's face was grim. "Can you think of a better diversion than having the Armory explode?" 

"Ishtar..." The Archaen paled 

"I think we found our time bomb, Victor," said the Colonel. Drake frowned. 

"We still need to know what we're dealing with here." The 'Sin-Guardian thought for a second, then looked down the hallway. 

"Hold on." 

He sprinted down the corridor in the direction that they came, passed the lift, and stopped at another set of steel doors marked   


**[SURVEILLANCE]**   


Entering his access code he threw the Colonel one last look and entered. Nothing happened. He returned thirty seconds later carrying two plastic   
cases about half a meter long and a few centimeters wide. Sprinting back he placed them on the floor near the Colonel, and dropping to one knee,   
opened the top case of one.   
Inside was a visor/headset unit with a thin stemmed micro-phone mouthpiece. In the center was a flat steel plate surrounded by LED readouts.   
Above that was a rectangular compartment with a thin glass cover. The 'Sin-Guardian put on the visor unit and adjusted the micro-phone stem in   
front of his mouth. Next he pressed the palm of his Sensor Glove to the steel plate. The LED lights lit up. His hand executed a series of hand-signals   
and the glass cover in the above compartment slide open. 

There was nothing inside. 

Until the Colonel looked closer and spotted what appeared to be half a dozen black spherical dots about three times the size of a grain of sand.   
Victor turned his gloved hand so that it was flat and palms up. He raised his hand and one of the dots began to rise. 

"This is an Archaen Fly-Eye. Essentially it's a nano-camera with a turbo-fan prop.   
What it sees, I see." and he pointed to his visor with his free hand. He then turned   
his sensor glove and the 'Eye' hovered towards the Armory doors. 

"If there's an explosive rigged with a motion detonator inside, I should be able to slip   
by with this." 

"And if you're wrong?" asked the Colonel with a little concern in his voice. Victor shrugged. 

"I guess they'll find big pieces of us here, little pieces there and lots and lots of our teeth." 

"Cute. Since you put it that way, anything I can do to help?" 

"Praying wouldn't hurt?" said the Archaen with undisguised worry. 

Victor entered his code, and once again the double steel doors of the Armory opened. He pushed his gloved palm forward and the 'Fly-Eye' eased in.   
  


______________________________________________________________________   
  
  


"To make a long story short, Sister, I found the bomb. The Dakka had attached one of our own puck charges   
to a wall with another note attached. Two words were written on it: 'HA-HA!." 

The Istata Sister said nothing. 

"Sister? ...are you there?" 

"...Yes, go on." 

"I'm sorry. This is taking long, perhaps I should get to the point." 

"No!..Please, I want to hear the rest." 

I nodded, even though I knew she couldn't see it. 

"The Dakka had set a timer on the device as well as a motion sensor primed to a   
two meter radius. Getting close to defuse it would be tricky." 

"But you succeeded." 

"At the time It didn't look that way. According to the timer's readout I had less then ten minutes   
to do the job. The additional nano-probes I had in the other case would help, but it would be   
slow work." 

"I'm sure that had your Joint-Commander worried." 

"Beyond worried. There were over one hundred men and women on board. If I had failed,   
the causalities would be...horrendous. Cato was faced with a decision all ship captains hate..." 

"...To abandon ship." said the voice from the other side of the screen. 

"'fraid so. The only problem was...things didn't exactly go according to plan."   
  


______________________________________________________________________   



	4. The Outcast Chapter 4

The Outcast 

**Chapter 4**   


The Colonel took the lift alone back up to the Alpha Deck. He tapped his personal wrist Comm-Unit and sent a secure line to the bridge. 

"Doctor, how's your progress?" 

A moment of silence was followed by a response. 

"I just completed the infra-red scan of the ship, and was on my way to test the troops, Sir." 

"Belay that order doctor, Victor just discovered a time-bomb in the armory. We have to prepare   
to abandon ship." 

The Colonel expected an exclamation, but realized Dreamers didn't do so. 

"I want you to personally escort Caressa to a life-pod and guard her yourself. I'll be downloading   
our tactical data base and join you shortly." 

"Understood sir," said the Dreamer. "However, you should know that I did find some slight anomalous   
readings in my scan." 

"Hold." That command was issued to the lift controls. The elevator stopped. "Explain," said the Colonel 

"There were a few cold spikes found near the engine room core, and powerplant. Nothing unusual, and   
definitely stationary." 

"Are there any Istata crew members around those sections?" 

"No sir, as per your orders all crew members are still confined to their quarters." 

The Colonel thought for a moment. 

"Doctor, which one of those locations is closest to a life-pod docking bay?" 

"The engine room, sir." 

A risky plan was forming in the Traqian's head. He looked at his chronometer. There were seven minutes left till the bomb went off.   
It would be close. 

"All right doctor, a change of orders. Get back on the Operations console and   
set up a continuous infra-red scan of the engine room and adjacent life-pod bay." 

"Yes sir, give me a moment," said the Medical Officer. 

The moment ticked by slowly. The Colonel looked at his time piece. Six minutes were now left. 

"Sir, the scan is set." 

"Right. Now, I want you to sound off the abandon ship klaxon on my command, but confine   
it to your scanned area. If anything jumps on your monitors, let me know." 

"Yes sir...ready" 

"Now! Doctor." 

Four seconds ticked by. 

"I have movement sir. A humanoid shape moving towards the life-pods. Body temperature   
...one hundred and forty." 

"Gotcha!" said the Colonel in satisfaction. 

"Let her enter the pod, doctor, then seal the doors behind her with a level one encryption   
code and disengage the outer bay doors." 

More time slipped by. 

"Done, sir. She's locked up tight." 

Cato smiled. "Excellent work doctor." He pulled his blaster and checked his charge. "Gamma Deck, maximum velocity." 

He felt the lift nearly drop out from under him. 

"Doctor, get our demolition's team down to the arsenal to assist Victor.   
If the job's not done in three minutes, set the order to abandon." 

"Aye sir, but what are you planning to do?" 

"A little recon hunting," called back the Colonel. 

The lift stopped and the doors opened. Checking both his flanks outside the elevator, he turned right and sprinted in the direction of the engine   
room. The sound of the klaxon eventually came closer and he slowed, hugged the shadows along the walls and spoke into his wrist unit just   
above a whisper. 

"Doctor, lose the siren." 

Two seconds later the noise stopped. The doctor called back. 

"Sir, you should know that the infra-red scan does not extend inside the life-pod habitat." 

"Understood, doctor." 

The wall ended at a corner two meters ahead. Soundlessly, he crept up. 

"I'm sending a security team your way, Colonel. They should be there in a few minutes." 

"Belay that doctor," whispered his commander. "By the time they get here we may have to abandon.   
I just want to check and make sure our guest is tightly secure." 

He peered around the corner of the next dimly lit corridor. On the wall across from him began a row of octagon shaped portals; the life-pod bay doors.   
The one closest to him held four wedged shaped windows which occupied the top half of the thick steel door. A light was on inside. Cato sprinted to the   
far wall and flatten himself to the right of the windows. The wall was cold against his back and he could feel the adrenaline rushing through him, sharpening   
his senses.   
  
Suddenly, the door thumped, a muffled bashing could be heard from the inside followed by a deep guttural sound that was far from human. The door   
was bashed again, and again ...and again. A wrinkled dent was pressed out. The structure was composed of six inches of alloyed steel, and the Colonel   
wondered how strong she truly was. 

Silence. 

Too long for the Traqian's liking. She was up to something. A sound caught his attention, unique, alarming, like the click of hard steel on glass.   
He curse and leaped clear just in time. The door exploded behind him, and threw him down the hallway. Hard white pain and blackness followed...   
  


______________________________________________________________________   
  


...Something was on his leg. A heavy weight. The smell of smoke was everywhere. 

Cato opened his eyes and saw it was a piece of metal; a smoking part of the pod bay door. His left arm hurt, and movement was impossible below the   
elbow. He glanced down at his torn sleeve and winced at the purple bruising along the bone line.   
  
*Probable fractured,* he thought. 

His Comm-unit was shattered. Its jagged edges had lacerated his wrist, allowing trickles of his own blood to puddle on the cold floor. His right hand   
felt empty; glancing over he saw why. His gun lay several feet away. He began to move towards it when he heard her. 

Smoke was clearing from the ruined remains of the life-pod door way. The steel door had been parted and curled back like the exit wound of a gunshot.   
Sounds were emanating from the darkness in low moans, the acoustics of live wires burning, and the crash of falling debris. The Dakka had taken a risk by   
using one of its own explosive charges to blow open the door. It was injured, but alive and coming out. 

The Colonel reached for his gun once more, but the metal plate on his leg suddenly moved and scratched the floor in a terrible grating noise. Cato froze   
and the sound of the creature moving inside the life-pod abruptly stopped as well. He cursed himself and held his breath as he tried to recall everything he   
knew about Dakka sensor biology. How good was their hearing? Their sense of smell? Thirty seconds seemed to tick by making the Colonel more aware   
of lost time. How long had he been out? How much time on the bomb? was Victor successful in defusing it? 

The creature moved again, and Cato knew this time she was coming out. 

Cautiously, clamping the piece of wrecked debris between his legs, the Colonel stretched for his weapon. It was now only inches away ...closer now   
...his tips touched the grip, but it was too late. 

The Dakka stepped through the portal with giant steps. It was huge, at least seven feet tall in a humanoid shape. Its body was covered with a dull red,   
pebbly, leathery hide from head to toe. Its massive arms, thicker than Cato's legs, drooped nearly to the floor, ending in wide flipper-like fins with black   
serrated edges and four, single jointed clawed fingers. The head was misshapen, placed atop a thick corded neck where two flaps of membrane like skin   
draped from the back of its skull to its wide shoulders like two grotesque fleshy sails, transparent with blood vessels. The creature turned and Cato could   
see its face. Its brows were knotted protrusions above empty eye sockets covered with loose flaps of its leathery skin. Between them were two long slits   
that served as it nose. The slits puckered wider, then closed in a rhythmic breathing pattern.   
  
Its mouth was the worse. Like two thick purple worms, wrinkled and pressed together in an emotionless grin. 

Cato lunged for his gun, rolled and aimed the blaster in the creatures direction. 

"Stand were you are!" he cried. 

The creature simply looked in his direction as a slight tremor went through its body. Its arms twitched as it clicked its claws together. Eight sets of nipples   
ran down its chest to its abdomen, the only sign of its sex. It took a step forward. 

"I will shoot you where you stand!" warned the Colonel. He crouched to one knee. 

The creature stopped and did nothing for several moments, then its lips began to move, to spasticly wiggle, and for half a moment Cato thought they   
were worms. They parted, revealing a thick set of fangs, criss-crossed in a deformed growth pattern. The mouth opened wider, and the teeth parted.   
Inside was a single, dark eye. It began to glow. 

Cato fired. 

The shot slammed home at the intersection of the Dakka's neck and shoulder jerking her back several feet. She slammed into the jagged door way,   
bounced off and fell back inside the pod chamber. The shot echoed down the corridor fading off into silence. The Traqian felt dizzy, his right arm trembled. 

*Must be hurt more than I realized,* he thought. *...was aiming for the heart.* 

The Colonel stood up and was instantly met with the pressure wave of a head rush. He staggered, clamped his teeth and fought the urge to vomit. 

*Concussion. Minor if I'm lucky* 

He maintained his balance and won the battle between mind and digestive system. Raising his gun, he made his way towards what was left of the   
life-pod door. The chamber was small and he could see the Dakka's legs on the ground. The soles of her feet were pink, like those of a rat's. He waited   
until his eyes adjusted to the darkness, then entered.   
  
It laid on its stomach neither moving or breathing. There was no entrance wound on its back, and so the Colonel kept his blaster pointed at his head,   
and advanced to its side. Wedging his boot under the creatures shoulder, he lifted with considerable effort and roll the creature on to its back. It was Anna,   
his fiancee. 

The world reeled around him as he stared dumb struck at image of his beloved. Like a well spring, blood pumped out of the wound at the base of her   
neck, and trickled out of her mouth in tiny rivulets. Her skin was pale with sickening bluish hue, and her unfocused eyes rolled around with shock, a   
prelude to death. A voice found his mind. 

"Cato?...Why?..why did you shoot me?" 

"Anna! I..I don't understand?...." He was dizzy, His vision began to darken. 

"Why?....why Cato?..." 

Suddenly, her eyes focused and found him; she reached out. Her thin arm, moving with a trembling strength, suddenly grasped his injured left arm.   
The Colonel howled in pain and the image of his betrothed shattered into a thousand pieces only to be replaced with the horrible figure of the Dakka.   
Her claws reached for him and a single eye blazed into his. The Colonel felt the gore rising in his throat. He tore his eyes away and fired point blank. 

His vision tunneled black, sounds faded, and he knew no more.   


______________________________________________________________________   
  


The security team spotted the Colonel. He was limping along the corridor wall. 

"Colonel! Are you all right?" 

It was his First officer, Lieutenant Julius Grasius. He lead the team in a dead run towards his Commander. The Colonel waved the team back in warning. 

"The creature bit me! I may be infected." 

Julius slowed down. He saw the gaping wound at the base of the Colonel's neck and a deep laceration along the side of his skull. He spoke into his   
throat mike on his battlesuit. 

"Get a medical team down to corridor G-4. The Colonel's been wounded." 

"There may not be time." Pompei was looking down at his wrist chronometer. "What's our status?" 

"Commander Drake says he's got the situation under control, but it'll be close." 

A strange flash of anger drew across the Colonel's face. 

"What do you mean?" 

Julius momentarily held his hand to his helmet's ear plate before responding. 

"He's temporary frozen the timer, but there's still two minutes to go on the bomb." 

Julius expected more relief to register on the Colonels face than the shocked surprise he saw. His commanding officer stood up straight and folded   
his arms across his chest, an odd gesture for someone who seemed so wounded. A strange smile played across his face, one filled with triumph and satisfaction. 

"Well soldier, that's cutting it a bit too close, don't you think?" 

The smile broaden, it was unnaturally wide. 

"I'm giving the order...abandon ship!"   
  


______________________________________________________________________   
  
  


My story was over and I waited in silence in the confessional abode. 

"Is that all? Is that how your story ends?" said her voice from the other side of the screen.   
"What of this woman you said you killed? What of the Dakka's fate?" 

"You tell me," I said. 

There was no immediate answer, but somehow I sensed she was shaking her head. 

"No, the story goes on because that wasn't your Colonel talking to his troops.   
It was your 'Dakka'... fooling them into seeing the Colonel, just as it fooled him   
into seeing his beloved. And so, the Dakka escaped in one of your life-pods." 

"But it wasn't a clean get away, was it?" I added. 

No. The Dakka was wounded...damaged from the second shot that had grazed her skull.   
Her thoughts were not strong. She was weak and alone." 

"Until her pod was picked up by a mining frigate on its way out of Archaen Space," I said. 

"Yessss, but how easy to fool them too. Fool them into seeing what they wanted, like one   
of their precious Istata Sisters in need of help. And how easy to make them turn around   
and return to their miserable colony, to this miserable Q-dex where she found her magic   
was weaker! DEFORMED!!" 

"The Archaen Quantum Zone 'locked' her into the illusionary form she came in on - The Istata   
Sister everyone was concerned for, but who's name on one could remember," I said. "She knew   
we were looking for her, so with her mono-form she sought the one place where she could hide.   
A place of worship - this church." 

I unbuckled the flap on my holster.   
  
"Lets drop the pretense, assassin, I found the bodies of the Sisters you killed minutes before we   
started this game ...Dakka!" 

In the silence I could hear her breathing grow harsher, building. 

"DAMN YOU! WHY CAN'T I FIND YOUR THOUGHTS! WHY CAN'T I   
FIND YOUR MIND!!" 

She sliced through the screen and into my form. She was fast, faster than I thought. Her berserker rage snapped timber and smashed stone   
with a terrible crushing sound. Her arms were blurs of furious power as she destroyed the entire Confessional Abode in a manner of seconds;   
digging for my body, for solid flesh and bone.   
  
I watched the scene from twenty feet away, glad I wasn't in there. 

I reached up and clicked off the holographic projector around my neck. The nano-probe receiver in the Confessional Abode was undoubtedly   
destroyed by now. The Unit had been combing the colony for hours in a standard search pattern for the Dakka. My instincts had lead me here.   
I got lucky. For the past twenty minutes I had managed to keep her busy while the troops convened on my signal and surrounded the church outside.   
Half a minute ago I got the word; They were in position.   
  
I rose from my place at the pew and the Dakka instantly spotted me. Her mouth dropped in a perfect 'O' of surprise. I probable cut a satisfied grin   
myself, but she never saw it. My face and head were covered with my battlesuit helmet where the nano-pixel face-plate showed black. Inside, it afforded   
me a three hundred and sixty degree view of the church in an infra-red format. I was hoping it would keep me immune from her powers. I stepped into   
the isle and feigned a casual pose, my right arm hung near my blaster. 

"It seems both of us can play the illusionary game," I said as I tapped the Holographic collar around my neck. It cursed at me. A hideous oath that   
blasphemed the very Goddess I worshipped. 

"I said that I had killed a woman today. That remains to be seen, but it doesn't have to be.   
The church is surrounded. The only way out is in shackles..." 

"...Or in death!" it said in its true voice, an icy thing that tugged on the linings of my mind. She strode forth. 

"I have hunted Golem and Suarian warriors, human. What makes you think you can slay me?" 

"Hunted them on your terms, maggot. I'd say the playing field is level now. Your speed verses mine." 

I stood my ground. She slashed through a stone column like it was tissue. Her claws were like swords, she stalked closer. 

"It will save you not," she stopped. 

I could see the wounds Cato had given her were choked with puss-worms. 

"Your death will be ...agonizing." 

"Your move, witch. Ready when you are." 

She shot forward, a distorted blur of churning muscle, teeth and claws. I waited until she was closer, too close for her to duck and then struck my   
arm to life. In one smooth motion I drew, aimed and fired into her face, twisting my body away at the last possible moment. The back of her head   
blew off, nearly decapitating her as she shot by tumbling like a devilish centrifuge. She exploded into row after row of pews as she plowed a fissure   
of destruction nearly to the back of the church, snapping stone, timber and mortar in her wake. Her form thrashed about in a spastic death throes,   
but she wasn't dead. I could feel her screaming in my mind. 

"That was for the sisters that you killed, maggot." 

I adjusted the levels on the Traqian Blaster to its highest setting, and walked towards her. One of her arms and legs were twitching in vibrational blurs.   
Arterial blood sputtered out white, thick ichor in oozing clumps. By all means she should be dead, but her lopsided head managed to roll my way. She   
tried the speak, but only milky bubbles welled out of the blast hole in her mouth, through the ruined hole that was once her eye. Like a distant shout I   
could feel her Death Curse tugging on my mind once more. I shut her out and reminded myself on how she had killed the Sisters. She had killed Haegan,   
and nearly Caressa, and Julie and everyone on board. She had killed thousands, and of that I had no doubt. I aimed my blaster. 

"And this...is for everyone else." 

I fired. A quick death was more than she deserved.   
  


______________________________________________________________________   
  
  


I walked out of the church and was greeted by a growing crowd behind security barriers a hundred meters away. Our troops held their formations   
mixed with soldiers from the local militia. Their Captain approached, a middle aged man with a serious face. 

"Is it?..." he asked. I nodded 

"We'll cover the expense of the damage and dispose of the body," I said. "I'm sorry we came too late, Captain.   
You'll find the Sisters bodies in the upper gallery." 

His face tightened at that and grew solemn with understanding. He signaled to three of his own men and together they entered the church. I walked   
down the rest of the steps and was met by the Colonel at the bottom. He wore his battle suit, and like me, his identity was concealed by his helmet. 

"You okay?" asked his voice in my Comm-unit. I nodded again. 

"I've been better. Killing a person in a church isn't something that sits easy with me." 

"I understand Vic, but don't think of her as a person. It was a filthy animal in my opinion." 

I read the bitterness in his voice and understood what he meant. I pulled out his blaster and returned it to him. He accepted it with his right hand,   
I knew his left arm was in a dermo-cast under his battle suit. 

"Thanks for doing me the honor," he said. "I owe you one." 

I shook my head. "If our roles had been reversed Cato, and that ...thing had imitated my wife, I'd want you to kill it with my gun too." 

We turned to leave. I hand signaled the same intent to the troops. The Colonel issued orders to Dr. Rhodes and few other officers to retrieve what   
was left of the Dakka's body. 

"We'll chalk this up in the official report as a joint kill," I said, thinking on how things would probable be different if Cato's shots hadn't seriously wounded her. 

"I'd like that," replied the Colonel. 

Remmer and Julius fell into step behind us, followed by the rest of the Unit in a single file. 

"You know, this is far from over," said the Colonel as we walked. 

"I know. We still have Caressa to deal with, and ultimately ...Marka's consciousness in her mind," I said. 

The sky was a dark purple before us. Behind us, the church bells began to ring, a mournful sound, announcing death in the community. 

"Tomorrow maybe, or the next day. Once we've all healed, but for now...let's just go home." 

The crowd parted to let us through. There was a mixture of emotions in their expressions. We were, after all, a parade of soldiers with hidden faces.   
  


______________________________________________________________________   



End file.
